


Anything worth doing

by itsalwayssunnyit



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26477629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsalwayssunnyit/pseuds/itsalwayssunnyit
Summary: ... is worth doing twice (or three or ten times, who's counting).
Relationships: Adam Jensen/Francis Pritchard
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	Anything worth doing

**Author's Note:**

> so, this is basically a sex scene I couldn't get out of my mind. might become a series (of sex scenes I can't get out of my mind).  
> let me know if I messed up anywhere, please?

Frank is _never_ touching gin again. That’s what he tells himself, at least. Because, naturally, all of this started _because_ of gin — _way_ too much gin — and the ridiculously stupid idea that _maybe_ accepting Adam Jensen’s halfhearted invitation for a drink after work would result in anything other than disaster.

They’ve been having a rough couple of weeks, to say the least — ever since Adam was brought back early from his recovery. Frank isn’t sure Adam is not purposefully stirring shit up as much as him simply being back works like a giant shit magnet, but he definitely could use a drink or five.

Less than an hour after they parked themselves at a random bar they already had enough alcohol in their bloodstream to prevent any common sense from getting in the way of their decision-making. That’s when their usual brand of banter very quickly gained an almost flirty undertone to it, sexual tension escalating until… Well, suffice to say there is no way Frank is showing his face at that bar again.

Angry orgasms tend to have a surprisingly sobering effect, however, and as they both struggled to catch their breaths in the aftermath of a make-out session gone terribly right, Frank muttered a disgruntled, “This _never_ happened.”

Damage control, quick but not very effective. Adam, the bastard, actually _snorted_.

“Fine by me,” he replied before clumsily extricating himself from the hacker. His half-amused, half-annoyed agreement did not prevent things from _keeping_ on happening, however.

A week after that first encounter, unable to ignore the familiarity their bodies now shared, they ended up in Adam’s _bed_. And then again, last night. More specifically, once against the wall next to Adam’s front door, then a second time in the shower. And now, as morning light creeps in through the windows of Adam’s bedroom, a thick carbon mesh digit slides smoothly into a quietly moaning Frank, sets up a thrusting motion. Frank’s still a bit messy from the previous night, easy to work open. He spreads his legs a bit further, shifts his weight over his rapidly hardening cock, trapped underneath, between his body and Adam’s sheets.

The even sound of Adam’s breath is the loudest thing in the room, so fucking heavy on Frank’s ears as Adam plunges two fingers inside and _holds_ them there, pressing, searching.

“Goddamnit, Jensen,” Frank complains but it doesn’t even sound like an objection, the hacker’s voice sleep-rough and quiet. Adam presses a bit harder, fingertips circling, and Frank lets out a helpless little whimper. He’s still sore and it hurts the way it hurts when you put pressure on a bruise.

It’s almost _good_.

Adam doesn’t say a word as he climbs on top of Frank. Frank doesn’t protest. He enjoys the warm weight of Adam on top of him, the inescapable threat of his unreasonably augmented, weaponized body.

The damage he could do, but chooses not to.

He doesn’t hurt Frank.

Well, that’s a lie. The first time they did this, Frank ended up with finger-shaped bruises around his hips. He only discovered them the morning after and spent the next couple of days absently trying to fit his own hands over the phantom touch of Adam’s hands. Adam is usually so aware of his strength, so mindful, that to have him lose control even for a second made Frank a bit dizzy also because the alternative that it might have been intentional is something Frank doesn’t want to look at too closely.

That’s not to say Frank doesn’t get a bit rough himself. Adam spent the past week having to tell their coworkers that he had accidentally hit himself in the face because of the mark he had on his lower lip, where Frank’s bit into it hard enough to break through the skin. Unintentional, though, Frank had told Adam. Told himself. Even though he enjoyed the hiss of pain-pleasure Adam breathed into his mouth, the almost angry grip on Frank’s hair to pull him away, eyes dark and shocked, aroused.

The leftover lubricant and semen still clinging to Frank’s hole had been enough for Adam’s fingers, but it’s still a bit too dry when Adam at first lines his cock up and presses in. Frank doesn’t tell him to stop, though, and Adam is patient, hard heat of him retreating minutely before coming in a bit deeper every time, effectively owning every inch he touches.

Should they be wearing condoms? Probably. Frank doesn’t even care, at this point. He doesn’t do this with men — doesn’t do this at all, in fact. He reckons if he ends up catching something, at least he’ll know who to blame for it.

When Adam presses forward, Frank can feel the whole hot press of his cock inside, can hear the way Adam’s breath quickens when he reflexively clenches around the girth of it. It’s _big_ , yeah, but it’s not like this is the first time they’re doing it. It still feels like too much and not enough at the same time, Frank’s nerves frayed, whole body sensitive like an open wound.

The graze lips on his shoulder makes Frank shudder.

Adam lets out a low groan when he’s finally all the way in, a quiet sound from a man of few measured words. Usually, anyway. Not with Frank, though. With Frank Adam’s always biting back, provoking, poking fun — cruel, corrosive enough to burn, a match made in the depths of hell.

When Adam first pulled the covers away from Frank’s nude body, Frank felt cold, but now sweat is starting to gather on his lower back and slide up his spine as he arches up against the push of Adam’s hips. He buries his face into the mattress — it smells like sex, like both of them and Frank doesn’t want to think about it too much, just inhales and presses his knees more firmly into the bed, tilts his ass up until the angle is almost…

“There,” he gasps, not that Adam needs the direction.

Adam indulges — him for a minute or an hour, who knows — and then moves to sit back on his heels, pulling Frank into him with one hand on his side, fingers digging into his stomach, and the other right on the center of Frank’s back, keeping him face down. Frank has no choice but to go along with it but he wouldn’t have resisted anyway, not with how he can feel the flared head of Adam’s cock pushing against his prostate on every other stroke.

Frank shifts his shoulders, reaches down between his own legs. His cock jumps under his own touch, hot and ready in his grip, and he can feel his orgasm building already. A few more minutes and he’ll be moaning, hiding his flushed, fucked-out face into Adam’s pillow and coming all over the sheets. Adam seems to have other plans, however, because he’s slowing _down_ , thrusting shallowly, rubbing purposefully right where it makes Frank want to cry out but not nearly hard or fast enough. He’s making noises, too, choked-off, deep rumbling moans, and Frank thinks Adam might be getting close too, might be trying to last a bit longer, which, well.

Frank tightens his fingers, grabs the base of his cock as if he’ll somehow be able to strangle his oncoming climax into submission. It works, sort of. He just wants to walk this edge a little bit longer, really. Could linger here for hours if Adam were up for it — maybe next time, he wonders, unable to convince himself this won’t happen again.

Because it _will_. It’s just too good to give up. They have denied themselves too much already.

Frank pulls his hand away from himself in order to press both palms into the mattress and push up, neck twisting back to offer Adam his lips. Adam groans, surprised and genuine, and immediately leans down for a kiss. The angle is awkward, a tangle of tongues more than anything else, but the shift in position brings Adam back in all the way and Frank shudders, whole body taunt and ready — fuck, he won’t even need to touch himself, will he?

“Oh, _god_.” Adam sounds so _shocked_ and that’s the only warning Frank gets before liquid heat floods into him, pours out of him, simultaneously. He comes on the insistent push of Adam’s orgasm, bent backwards into a kiss that seems to suck the air right out of his lungs. Frank barely makes a sound, but his climax leaves him tingling from head to toes, Adam’s wet lips peppering kisses all over his face as Frank gasps for air and grinds his overstimulated cock against the rumpled, messy sheets, spurting warm and thick and _hard_ , fuck. Frank groans, muscles twitching around Adam, around the warm load of come spreading inside and his softening length.

Lost somewhere between, “this can’t keep happening,” and, “ _dear lord_ , this can’t _ever_ stop happening,” Frank feels Adam pull out and lets himself be turned onto his back. He meets Adam’s eyes before he can think better of it, mirrors his naked and stunned gaze. Sighing, he reaches up clumsily to pull Adam into another kiss, this one slower, deeper, so loving Frank almost thinks he’s imagining it.

They kiss until they can’t kiss anymore and when they part, Adam’s eyes rake over Frank’s body like he can’t get over it, the milky expanse of his chest, the specks of white drying semen stuck to the dark hairs on Frank’s lower abdomen, the raw flush of his spent cock. Frank allows him to continue his inspection, feels the weight of Adam’s eyes like a touch. He barely flinches when Adam pushes one of his knees up, eyes trained on his fucked-out hole and the warm seed slowly leaking out of it. A finger presses against it, barely breaching Frank, and Adam’s eyes are now fixed on Frank’s face, gauging his reaction.

“Did I hurt you?”

Frank doesn’t know if Adam wants to hear a yes or a no. It does hurt a bit, his ass feels used and sore and _empty_ , but he shakes his head in denial. Adam presses a second finger against the rim, slowly sinks both of them in.

Frank jolts, but doesn’t pull away. He honestly doesn’t think he can, he doesn’t have an ounce of tension on his body.

“More?” Frank asks, curiously eyeing up and down the length of Adam’s body. He’s broad-shouldered, smooth-skinned despite his scars, his muscles so well-toned Frank’s mouth will go dry if he looks too long. He’s not hard again, not yet, but he seems to be halfway there and getting harder by the second.

That’s some enviable stamina, Frank thought, the week before. This week, however, he’s been looking forward to it.

A teasing smirk on Adam’s lips.

“Can _you_ take more?”

The smugness behind the question brings a helplessly fond smile to Frank’s lips as he stretches, arms reaching upwards as his back cracks pleasantly. God, his fucking _calves_ ache. His eyelids feel heavy when his eyes meet Adam’s and he shrugs. “Guess we’ll find out.”

It’s mostly sex, Frank keeps telling himself despite how warm and tight his chest feels all the fucking time, now. It’s really _good_ sex, though. Might just be the best sex of his life, but it’s not like he has had a particularly adventurous life and he is trying not to overthink it when Adam pushes back inside with a husky moan, gazing deeply into Frank’s eyes the entire time.

He’s gauging Frank’s discomfort again. _Has_ to be.

Every thrust aches a bit less, burns a bit brighter. Frank presses his left foot into the mattress, hooks his right leg around Adam’s hip and _pulls_. His hands run all over Adam’s shoulders, feeling every shift of muscles and carbon-polymer-metal before cupping the sweaty skin of Adam’s nape to pull him down into another kiss. Adam takes hold of Frank’s right knee as they kiss, fingers pressing into soft flesh and pushing it up and back. It’s a deep stretch on a good day, the muscles on Frank’s inner thighs pulling uncomfortably at the lingering memories of the previous night.

Frank breaks the kiss with a sharp, “ _Fuck_ ,” tossing his head back onto the pillows, lips parting for a long moan, eyelids fluttering closed. Adam hums approvingly, at once conceited and ravenous as he picks up speed, eyes tracing the long pale line of Frank’s neck before his mouth descends on it like a vampire going in for the kill, sucking bruising kisses into milky-white flesh, teeth worrying at soft skin and leaving angry red marks in their wake. Frank shivers under the attention, gasping for breath — Adam feels the vibration of every sound under his lips, the salt on Frank’s skin almost sweet on his tongue.

At first, it was a bit startling. How responsive Frank is.

Startling and absolutely impossible to get out of his mind. It drives Adam half-crazy, being able to just _have_ Frank like this, spread out like a fucking feast and responding to every small touch like a finely tuned guitar. When they’re not together, Adam can barely stop thinking about it, about him, about what Frank sounds like with a cock in him, about how well he takes it.

“Harder,” Frank demands and Adam is more than happy to oblige.

“Like this? Yeah, Frank?” Frank is nodding, eyes glazed over, biting down onto his lower lip to try and contain his voice. It’s no use, though.

Fuck, Adam wants to _ruin_ him.

“Come on, tell me what you want,” he taunts, leaning closer to sink his teeth down into the Frank’s chin.

“God, Jensen,” Frank huffs, his eyes tightly shut. It’s not the most coherent he’s ever sounded, but his whisper of, “Want you… Want you so much. All the time,” sends electricity zapping through Adam’s veins.

“All the time, hm?” He punctuates the question with a sharp jab of hips that has Frank clutching at his shoulders, “Want me to do what, huh, Pritchard? Want me to fuck you? To… ah… stuff you full of cock? Make you take it, huh?”

Frank tries to reach for his cock, but can’t get quite the right angle. “God, you’re infuriating,” he tells Adam. His annoyance sounds _good_ , though, almost as good as the moaning, “Touch me,” he pours right into Adam’s mouth.

Adam shakes his head.

“I have a better idea,” he says before pushing Frank flat onto his back and taking hold of both of Frank’s thighs, fingers digging into soft flesh as he pushes them up and back. Frank tries to help, offers no resistance at all, and the rhythm Adam’s fucking him barely falters and then Adam begins to put weight behind the roll of his hips, plunging in deep, hard and slow. “Come on, Frank. Touch yourself for me, now.”

Frank feels too vulnerable like this. Too exposed. He can’t really bring himself to pull away from the grip Adam has on him, though, not with the angle they managed to find and how fucking deep he can _feel_ it. He’ll be sore for a week, he’s sure of it, and he almost doesn’t want to give Adam the satisfaction of seeing him like this, but he’s burning up, so close to coming for, what?, the _fourth_ time in less than 24 hours. It’s crazy, is what it is. His cock feels like fire in his grip and every time Adam pushes inside Frank feels like he’s about to climb out of his own skin with overstimulation.

“Yeah, just like that,” Adam’s praise falls warm on Frank’s ears and Frank tightens his grasp around his cock. He’s dripping slick all over his fingers, shivering under Adam’s heated gaze. “Come on, Frank.” A harder thrust and Frank’s eyes roll back. “That’s it. Let it go. Christ, you look… _Fuck_.”

Frank is going to come again and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself if he wanted to. He pumps himself harder, his moans climbing up in volume, and clutches at the pillow under his head with his free hand, muscles tensing, sparks flying behind his closed eyelids. The spurt that lands on his stomach is this pathetic thing, but the waves that wreck his body leave his mouth dry, throat hoarse with sounds he can’t contain, his entire body twitching long after his climax has subsided.

Adam pulls out soon after, thankfully. Frank doesn’t think he would have been able to endure it much longer, the onslaught of Adam’s desire. He’s only human.

Adam jerks himself off against Frank’s stomach, comes whispering filth about how good Frank is, how he’s never getting out of Adam’s bed again. Frank holds him as Adam moans and spills warm and sticky, semen splattering across Frank’s stomach. Frank kisses him as their bodies tangle together in the aftermath, messy with come and sweat and spit, and then kisses him some more just because.

For the briefest of seconds, Frank considers what time it might be, considers that they should probably clean up a bit before exhaustion drags them under. By the time the thought takes form, however, Adam is already asleep, arms wrapped around Frank’s middle and his chin resting on Frank’s shoulder, and Frank is halfway there with him.


End file.
